


Give and Take

by cheerforthewyverns



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Lunch, M/M, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheerforthewyverns/pseuds/cheerforthewyverns
Summary: Fenris has a sex dream, and he and Anders try some new things.
Relationships: Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	1. Give

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to put coins in the Pure Fluff machine but Smut keeps falling out. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This story starts a few months before [Spoons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433172), if you're trying to keep some sense of chronology in my stories. More power to you if you're attempting to perceive time in a standard, linear way here in 2021!

Fenris spent a quiet day at home, practicing his handwriting. Anders had helped him set up a desk in the former study, which, he thought with a bit of pride, appeared to be a study again. They had moved the small bed out of the corner, and instead had set up a proper bedroom close to the kitchen, with a bed big enough for the two of them; Anders still slept at the clinic some nights, but those were fewer and fewer.

The desk had room for the books he was currently working through, a stack of scrap paper, pencils, and pen and ink, which Fenris was just starting to try, but found stressful. His spelling had improved immensely, but he sometimes found himself floundering when writing his own thoughts with the pen, which felt so _permanent_ , so Anders had suggested he practice by copy paragraphs out of books, to get used to how it felt and the rhythm of when to dip the pen. This was all well and good, but only worked if Fenris was able to pay attention. And today, that was not happening.

His concentration was wrecked because that morning Fenris had awoken from a sex dream. He had had them before, but never this vivid, and never this clear. In the dream, he’d been over Anders, and he could feel Anders’s big, gentle hands on his hips, and see Anders’s smiling face, which meant that the hot tight place where his cock had been in the dream was not...in any of those places.

When he and Anders had sex, they had shied away from anything more than hands and mouths. Anders had assured him that they were indeed still having sex, and that while Anders enjoyed other things, they was not a requirement. Fenris had discovered readily that he liked being pleasured with the healer’s hands and tongue (and lips, and throat—and kissing, Fenris had learned he _really_ liked kissing), and doing the same to Anders.

But this morning he’d woken up from a dream about fucking Anders, his cock painfully hard, and he’d jerked off to the fading sense memory of having Anders all around him, his face pressed into Anders’s pillow so he could smell him, too. And now, he waited nervously for the healer to close the clinic and come to the mansion, turning over and over in his mind the words he might use to ask if they could do _that_.

“Fasta vass,” he sighed, and got up to open a bottle of wine.

What felt like hours later, Fenris sat with his wine on the front entryway steps and heard boots coming up from the wine cellar. He breathed deliberately to counter the automatic tension that made his body want to jump up, _get your sword, someone is here_ , but he knew from the sounds it was only Anders, come to the mansion through the hidden, warded trap door that connected the mansion to Darktown.

Finally, Anders came down the hall. He looked tired, but smiled when he saw Fenris. “Oh, hi, love. Is everything alr—”

Before he could finish, Fenris darted to him and got up on his toes to kiss him, slipping his arms around the healer’s waist. Anders responded immediately and wrapped his arms around Fenris, still holding his staff.

When Fenris drew back, Anders grinned. “Well! That was quite the ‘good evening’.” He drew Fenris close and gave him another, shorter, softer kiss. “How was your day? Did you try out that copying exercise I recommended?”

Fenris paused before responding. “I have been thinking, Anders.”

“You always are, Fen.” Anders stepped back and leaned his staff on the banister, then began to unbuckle his coat.

“I have been thinking about sex.”

Anders immediately stopped fussing with his coat and looked up at Fenris, delighted. “That is excellent to hear, at least”—His expression grew more serious in response to Fenris’s pensive face.—“I think so?”

“Specifically, I have been thinking about penetration. I still do not want to; that is, I do not think I want it done to me. But _you_ like it, like having it done to you.” Fenris said, looking up at Anders’s face.

“I do.” Anders looked pleased, but also wary.

Fenris took a centering breath. “Then I would like to try.”

Anders’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

Fenris nodded.

Anders stepped closer again, and took both of Fenris’s hands in his. “What caused this sudden interest, if I may ask?” he asked softly.

If he could not tell Anders this truthfully, he did not deserve to continue the conversation, nor reap its benefits. Nonetheless, Fenris felt his ears grow hot. “I woke up from a dream this morning. A very memorable dream.”

Anders’s eyes sparked with understanding, and widened even further. “Have you been thinking about this _all_ _day_?”

Fenris bit his lower lip. “I have. My writing practice suffered, I am afraid,” he admitted.

Anders smiled, that smile that narrowed his eyes and made him look like a pleased cat. “Then I am so sorry I’ve kept you waiting.” He was still holding Fenris’s hands, and drew them up to his face to kiss the knuckles. “Shall we go to bed?”

Fenris kissed Anders again, and Anders licked lightly, playfully, into Fenris’s mouth, and then Fenris led Anders by the hand to his bedroom, feeling his heart speed up in his chest.

When they got to the small room, Anders finished taking off his coat and hung it with his satchel on a peg, and leaned his staff next to Fenris’s sword rack. He struggled next with his boots and socks, which he put by the wall under his coat. Fenris, barefoot and wearing light trousers and a long-sleeved tunic all day, watched, unable to stop smiling. Finally divested of outerwear, Anders swept up Fenris in his arms, kissing him hard, and gently deposited him on the bed.

Fenris felt himself smiling still through the kiss, and guided Anders to lay down with him. Anders cuddled him close, still kissing. He pulled Fenris’s leg up over his hip, and rubbed his hand over Fenris’s thigh, his ass, and Fenris felt the lick of desire that had been stoking all day begin to grow.

“I’ve been thinking about having you inside me for a long time,” Anders admitted, licking his lips.

Fenris couldn’t help his curiosity. “Since when?” he asked, then watched as a blush rose in the healer’s cheeks.

“Since—the first time I saw you?”

Fenris felt a flush of pleasure, but also that this was absurd. “ _Truly_?”

“Probably? At least since the first time I heard your voice, _Maker_.”

“And you did not think to mention this _before_?” Fenris chided.

“Well, honestly, I wanted you to be the one to bring it up." Anders bit his lip.

At this admission, the coil of nerves that had been twisting in Fenris’s gut all day started to unknot itself. He hadn’t realized that Anders _too_ was nervous about this. He ran his hand up Anders’s back, his neck, and into the tangled bun of soft hair, and drew his face in for a deep kiss. Anders moaned into his mouth and parted his lips for Fenris to lick teasingly over his lips and tongue. Fenris kissed him until he could feel Anders’s cock stiffen in his trousers, and the healer looked debauched and glassy-eyed when they parted.

Feeling even bolder, Fenris asked lowly, “When you think about me inside you, do you put your fingers inside yourself?”

“Yes,” Anders murmured breathlessly, immediately.

Fenris’s heart jumped, and he was pretty sure his cock did the same. He took a deep breath. “Show me.”

Anders, still grinning, released Fenris and rolled onto his back. He peeled off his tunic and shimmied out of his trousers, and tossed them both to the floor. Fenris felt his breath catch at the sight of the healer being so free with his body, grazing his eyes over Anders’s long, muscled limbs, his freckled skin, his soft hair, his hard cock, as Anders laid back on the bed and rested his head on a pillow. Fenris felt suddenly very over-dressed, but he found himself liking being dressed while Anders was naked, so he kept his clothes on for now.

“Would you mind getting the slick for me from the drawer?” Anders asked. He was arranging another pillow under his hips, then laid back and began to slowly, teasingly stroke his long cock.

Fenris swallowed, and nodded, and crawled quickly to the bedside cabinet where he and Anders kept things like extra candles, hair ties and pins for Anders, and a jar of clear, fragrant grease. While he’d been initially apprehensive about it, Fenris had come to enjoy the feel of the cool, slick mixture, and when he found and opened the jar he was surprised that the smell alone exciting him, infused as it was into many pleasant, if recent, memories. He held the jar out to Anders, who scooped up a good amount, then moved back down the bed to watch.

Anders, still smiling, pressed his head back onto the pillow, and looked down at Fenris with half-lidded eyes. He spread his legs and slid the hand that had been stroking his stiff cock down to lift his sack. Fenris now had an uninterrupted view of the pucker underneath, surrounded by soft, dark gold hair. He watched, feeling his heartbeat in his ears, as Anders made a quick stroke with the grease over his cock, then brought his slick hand down between his legs to massage his hole, then, after only a moment, pressed one finger in to the second joint. Fenris could not help the catch in his breath, and Anders laughed shakily and drew the finger out partway, then pushed it in to the knuckle with a sigh.

“I haven’t had someone watch this for a long time. I’m a bit nervous,” Anders admitted, smiling, biting his lip.

He slid the finger in and out a few times, then pushed two in. He moaned softly, and his breathing picked up. Fenris could see that he was moving his fingers up and down and side to side, stretching himself. Anders’s fingers were big, and Fenris found himself wondering how many he would use. The thought sent a throb through his cock, and he realized that he was very hard in his trousers.

Anders seemed to have fallen into a familiar routine, alternating slipping his fingers in and out and scissoring them inside. His fingers started to linger on the out-strokes, curling slightly. “How are you doing?” Anders asked suddenly, his voice a little breathy.

Fenris’s eyes snapped to the healer’s face. “Should I not be asking _you_ that?”

Anders laughed again, this time more freely. “I suppose you could. I am feeling very—” Anders curled his fingers a fraction more, and his mouth suddenly went slack, his eyes closing. “Mmm. I am very good.”

“What are you doing?” Fenris asked. His voice sounded rough.

Anders kept his eyes closed, but smiled broadly and went back to scissoring and pumping. “You know that place you like me to massage?”

Fenris swallowed at the surge of heat he felt between his legs; they had discovered that Fenris liked it very much when Anders touched him just behind his sack, and Fenris was still not completely convinced that it was not magic. “Yes.”

“Well, you can rub from inside, too. A bit more—mmm—efficiently.” Anders’s body was relaxing further. He was moving his hips into each pump of his fingers, and then he drew both fingers out. Fenris saw that the pucker was stretched and stayed a tiny bit open before it closed back together. His eyes still closed, Anders returned with three fingers, lifted his hips slightly, and slid them all inside with a gasp.

Fenris couldn’t tear his eyes away. Anders seemed done with scissoring his fingers and instead focused on pumping all three in and out, curling them occasionally with a shiver. His cock, even harder than before he’d started stretching himself, was jutting up between his legs, twitching.

Fenris suddenly had a wicked idea. “Anders,” he murmured.

Anders’s eyes snapped open. They were unfocused, his face suffused with pleasure.

“Anders, do you want to come with your fingers before I am inside you?”

“ _Fuck_ , Fen.” Anders tilted his hips, and started to stroke his cock again with his free hand. “ _Yes_.” He quickly picked up the pace, both stroking and pumping, and before long he was panting, looking at Fenris, flushing from his cheeks to his belly.

Fenris felt an enormous rush of heat at the effect of his suggestion. His cock ached, and he realized he was excited not just by the display that Anders was putting on (Anders had an exhibitionist streak a mile wide, which Fenris quietly encouraged) but by still being clothed while watching. He squeezed his cock through the fabric, feeling how hard he was, how ready.

“Fen,” Anders gasped.

Fenris looked up to see Anders’s eyes fixed on his hand on his clothed cock, as Anders stroked and pumped even faster. Fenris moved his hand over himself, rubbing the constricting shape of his trousers and the silky material of his smalls over himself.

“I can’t wait to have you in me,” Anders sighed breathlessly. “Fuck, you get so _thick_. I am going to come so hard with you inside. _Maker_ , I’m close.” Anders redoubled his efforts, panting. “Where were we, in your dream?” he asked suddenly.

Fenris’s mouth felt dry. “We were here, in bed.”

“Were you over me?” He sounded hopeful, his eyes lifting to Fenris’s face, dark with want.

“Yes,” Fenris whispered. “You were holding my hips. I was between your legs.”

Anders let out another broken moan, and continued to look at Fenris through half-lidded eyes. “I bet you were fucking me _so_ hard and _so_ good _._ Fen, I can’t wait—can’t wait to have you come in me, fill me up. Can’t wait—oh, fuck, I’m—I’m—”

Anders groaned, his hips bucking. Cum striped his belly in thick spurts as he stroked himself through it, pressing his fingers hard into himself, his shoulders lifting off the bed, his eyes shut, his mouth open. Finally he collapsed back, panting. He squeezed the shaft for a moment, with a soft moan, and more cum dribbled out, his cock even more flushed.

Fenris was staring, feeling like he had left and returned to his body, his heart pounding, his hand still holding his cock through his trousers. He could feel dampness, and knew he was leaking precum through two layers of clothing.

“Fuck, Maker, I got carried away, sorry,” Anders said apologetically, still flushed, pushing himself up to sitting. “Are you— _oh_.” He looked at Fenris’s face and licked his lips. “I think you _liked_ that.”

“Yes,” Fenris said, hoping to convey all of the _want_ he was feeling.

Anders grinned. “Come here.”

Fenris moved closer to Anders on the bed, and Anders quickly sat up and wrapped Fenris in his arms, kissing him, hard. Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders’s back, touching his broad shoulders, smelling sweat on him, feeling Anders’s still-hard cock pressing against his stomach. Anders broke off the kiss and moved his mouth along Fenris’s jaw to his ear. Fenris shivered, despite feeling flushed with heat.

“Let’s get you undressed?” Anders murmured.

Fenris felt a swell of warmth in his chest. It was always a question: getting undressed, being touched. He nodded quickly and Anders helped him carefully pull his tunic, now smeared with Anders’s cum, off over his head, then went to work on the small buttons of his trousers.

“I’m going to need to see to get those absurd little fastenings on your smalls,” Anders said, still smiling, and draw back a bit further.

In response, Fenris carefully slid his trousers off of his legs, then, never looking away from Anders’s wide eyes, unfastened his smallclothes and let them fall open.

“Fuck,” Anders sighed. He slid his big hands down the back of Fenris’s smalls and squeezed his ass, then gently peeled the silky things down. Fenris’s hard cock slipped out, bobbing up. It felt good to finally be naked, just as good as it had felt to be wanting and clothed.

Anders reached for the jar of grease, scooped some up, and slowly, tantalizingly dragged it down Fenris’s cock from tip to root. Fenris did everything in his power to not buck into Anders’s hand, into the first real touch since his own hand this morning, when he’d been thinking about _this_ , and Anders hummed and made another slow stroke, pressing his brow to Fenris’s.

“I’m going to lay back, and you can can see what you like, move however you want, okay?” Anders murmured. “I just want you inside me.”

Fenris didn’t know what to say, so he kissed Anders. Anders’s smile was dazzling as he laid back on the bed.

Fenris swallowed and shuffled between Anders’s long legs, and grasped his cock at the root. His heart was pounding, and he felt a tendril of anxiety wind around his stomach.

“Fen.”

He looked up at the healer.

“I’ve got you.” Anders reached out a hand and clasped Fenris’s free one.

Fenris nodded, and took a deep breath, then lined himself up with Anders’s hole. It was gaping a bit, after all the stretching, and it was so easy to center the slick head of his cock against it. Anders gasped softly, but stayed still, and squeezed his hand. Breathing out, Fenris pressed forward, the head of his cock stretching the pucker and then, surprisingly quickly, popping inside. Fenris was immediately hit with how hot Anders was inside, how slick, and before he could think too hard about it, he leaned forward carefully on his knees, sliding in deeper.

“ _Fuck_ , Fen,” Anders gasped, sounding like all of the air had been punched out of him.

“Are you alright?” Fenris asked, feeling dizzy with want, but staying still.

“Yes, I am _very_ alright.” Anders pushed up on his arms to kiss Fenris, and the movement tilted his pelvis, and Fenris slid deeper, bottoming out. Anders moaned into his mouth, and Fenris gasped, falling forward onto Anders’s chest. He scrabbled for balance and pulled back out a bit, then got his knees under himself and sank back in.

The feeling was indescribable. Anders was so hot, so slippery, so tight, and…something else. After another stroke Fenris stilled. “Anders.”

Anders’s eyes were wild. “What?”

“I can feel your _heartbeat_.”

Anders grinned. “Yeah.” He rolled his hips, and Fenris felt as if his entire cock was being massaged by Anders’s internal muscles.

Fenris dropped forward, bracing his arms on either side of Anders’s torso, and started to move in long, slow thrusts that took him almost all the way out, then all the way back in, feeling the stretch around him, feeling held along his whole length. Fenris looked at Anders’s mussed hair, his flushed face and chest, his smile. It was just like the dream, all wetness, and heat, and Anders’s beautiful eyes. Only one thing was missing, which Anders seemed to read on his face. He got up a bit on his elbows, and, despite the awkward angle, gave Fenris another sound kiss, then laid back, smiling.

“Feels so good, Fen,” Anders sighed. He was relaxed, and smiling, and letting the motion rock him, gasping softly. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Fenris breathed. His hips felt like they were moving on their own, and for a little while he concentrated only on the stretch and squeeze of Anders around him, how tight but relaxed he felt. Anders’s little panting breaths encouraged him, and he sped up a bit, his thrusts going shorter, the waves of pleasure still steady, but coming faster. He heard a soft moan curl in his throat, and let himself relax into the strokes, leaning on his arms, pistoning his hips in shallow, quick movements, enjoying how Anders’s breathing sped up too.

But then a thought occurred to him: _I bet you were fucking me_ so _hard_ _and_ so _goo_ _d_ , Anders had babbled, his fingers curled inside himself, rubbing the upper wall of his passage with tactical precision.

On the next stroke in, Fenris shifted his weight back, trying to aim for that spot.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Anders groaned. “How did—Fen, fuck—”

Fenris pushed off from the bed, balancing easily on his knees, and looped his arms around Anders’s thighs to anchor himself, and thrust harder, spearing into Anders. Anders was moaning, staring at him, his hard cock bouncing every time he was filled, his body taut, and Fenris let out a groan as he felt the pleasure shift from one long wave to a shape that started to fold back on itself over and over, curling through his groin.

“ _Fenris_ ,” Anders moaned.

“Anders,” Fenris breathed.

“You are going to make me come again.” Anders sounded almost accusatory. “Fuck, your _cock_.”

Fenris’s breath caught, and he felt reckless, and he grinned. “Tell me about my cock.”

Anders laughed, and Fenris could _feel_ it. “You feel so fucking good. I knew you would. I am _so_ full,” Anders sighed, then moaned. “You are so fucking clever. You were watching _exactly_ what I was doing, weren’t you?”

“I like to watch you,” Fenris said.

Anders made a choked moan, and his hand flew to his cock, and he started stroking, his brow knitted, his mouth slack with pleasure.

Fenris grinned and threw back his head. He felt _so good_ , the pleasure still building all along his cock, in his groin, feeling like it was also building in that place deep inside him that Anders could touch with his clever fingers, which he was now rubbing in Anders with his cock. That thought was like a bolt of electricity. He was going to make Anders come with his cock, and he was going to come _inside_ Anders, and without warning that idea catapulted him over the edge. He cried out as release cascaded through him, pumping his hips, feeling Anders clench around him, so tight, massaging him, and then he wasn’t thrusting anymore, just letting Anders’s body move him, tug him, squeeze every last drop out of him, draping himself over Anders’s big, sweaty body as _he_ came again, cum hot on Fenris’s stomach and chest.

For a long time, the only sounds were their panting breaths. Fenris felt pleasantly spent, his head almost, atypically, empty of thoughts. All he could really focus on was how warm he was, how relaxed, how good Anders smelled, how Anders’s chest hair was tickling Fenris’s face, and how his cock was still inside Anders, softening, while Anders’s twitched against his stomach.

“Maker,” Anders sighed huskily.

Anders’s hands pressed on his back, rubbing up and down, over his arms, his thighs, his neck. Fenris loved how he felt anchored to Anders’s body. He wriggled, trying to snuggle even closer.

“Fenris,” Anders said.

“Yes?” he mumbled.

“Are you _sure_ you haven’t done this before?”

He was too comfortable and sleepy to feel peeved about the healer’s question, which on a worse day may have made him snap. Instead, he nestled his face against Anders’s chest and sighed. “Not that I am aware of.”

Anders sighed. “Well. That was amazing. What did you think?”

“I like being inside you,” Fenris murmured softly.

“Mmm. I _very_ _much_ like having you inside me. I’d like to have you up here so I can kiss you, though.”

Fenris wanted to be kissed as well, so he slowly levered himself up, feeling his now-soft cock slip out of Anders (a curious feeling), and crawled up further to lie on Anders properly, tucking his head into the curve of Anders’s neck. Anders pushed the pillow under his ass away, and held Fenris close, kissing the flat of his nose, and then his mouth.

“Maybe next time I could ride you,” Anders murmured, “so I can lean down and kiss you while you fuck me.”

Fenris felt a flush of heat and suddenly felt _extremely_ awake. “Ride?”

“Mmm, yes.” Anders grinned. “You wouldn’t have to do anything, just lie back, and I’d sit on your cock and do all the work.”

“Why did we not do that _this_ time, then?” Fenris asked, smiling.

Anders snorted. “I thought you’d want the full doing-the-fucking experience, you saucy elf.”

“Hmm.” Fenris kissed Anders’s neck and buried his face in the healer’s messy hair.

“But, seriously, that was amazing,” Anders said softly. “I mean, I knew it would be, but you paid so much attention to what I was doing to myself.” He laughed softly. “Meanwhile I was just staring at how fucking amazing you looked touching that enormous bulge in your trousers.”

Fenris rolled his eyes, but also felt his ears heat. “I like to watch you,” he said again. “I like that you like being watched. And you’ve shown me so many things. I was hoping to—” He pressed his face into Anders’s neck, breathing his scent in deeply to calm his quickening heartbeat. “I was hoping to impress you.”

Anders squeezed Fenris tight, pressing fervent kisses to his hair. “You impress me _every day_. But yes, you _also_ fucked me silly.”

“Not silly _enough_ , if you are able to speak about it at this length,” Fenris grumbled.

Anders laughed, and his hands rubbed all over Fenris again, cupping and squeezing. The healer’s hands were gentle, as always, but covetous in a way that made Fenris’s loins warm. It was still such a new feeling, _wanting_ to be wanted.

“Perhaps we should rest a bit, and then you can give it another try?” Anders asked. Fenris could hear the smile in Anders’s voice, but also the hopeful tone.

Fenris angled himself up to kiss the healer, lazily, but deeply. Anders moaned into the kiss and went lax under him. Fenris shifted so he was centered over Anders’s body, and held his face, the stubble tickling his palms, his lips, and kissed him breathless. Anders’s hands pressed Fenris’s thighs down against him on either side, anchoring him. He rolled his hips, hearing Anders gasp, and got another idea.

“Anders,” he murmured.

“Yes, Fenris,” Anders sighed.

“Since I do not possess your constitution”—Anders rolled his eyes—“I will need a bit of time. In the meantime, I wonder if I can offer you something to drink, and then put my fingers in you.”

“Fenris,” Anders breathed.

“Anders?” Fenris asked.

“You are an angel.”

“Doubtful.” Fenris licked at Anders’s lower lip, then gently, but forcefully, bit it with his sharp teeth. “I have water, and wine.”

“I will stick to water, thank you, but don’t refrain on my account.”

Fenris got up, and made his way to the kitchen. He realized he was smiling, and couldn’t stop. He’d fucked Anders, in his bed, and not only had Anders already come twice _and_ wanted to come again, with Fenris’s cock in him _again_ , he wanted to do so on full display. Fenris was shocked to find his cock was already stirring at the thought, so lust-addled that he almost forgot what he’d gone to the kitchen for in the first place.

He returned with a jug of water and the mostly-full bottle of wine he’d left on the entryway steps. Despite his friends teasing, he really didn’t drink _that_ much, and simply preferred to drink from the bottle rather than need to wash a glass.

He returned to the bedroom, and Anders smiled at the sight of the pitcher. He took several long pulls from it when Fenris handed it to him, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Fenris took a long swallow from it as well, then a pull from the wine bottle, licking his lips.

“Fuck, Fen,” Anders sighed. “You look like you want to _eat_ me.”

Fenris put down the wine bottle, then wove his fingers into the healer’s messy hair. He found and pulled out the tie so the bun finally collapsed into dense waves that fell over Anders’s shoulders. “Still want my fingers inside you?”

Anders nodded quickly, smiling.

Fenris wanted to lie on top of Anders while he did this, but he knew that would be awkward, so he settled for kneeling between the healer’s long legs, much like he had before, and reaching one hand under Anders’s sack. He honestly didn’t know what to expect, but the wet slickness was more than he’d bargained for. He realized he was feeling a mix of the slick and his own cum, and he almost pitched forward and shoved his quickly-stiffening cock into the healer again at the thought. Instead, he deliberately slowed his breath, and slipped two fingers easily into Anders’s hole, feeling how hot and relaxed he was.

Anders moaned and arched, anchoring both of his hands on the bed, and started rolling his hips on Fenris’s fingers. “More,” he breathed, “please.”

Swallowing hard, Fenris withdrew his fingers and added a third before slipping them back in. His fingers were slimmer than Anders’s, but he was still floored by how easy the slide was.

“Mmmm,” Anders moaned. “Just touch me, Fen.”

Fenris slid all three fingers in and out a few times, countering the roll of Anders’s hips, then curled them, trying to find the spot inside that he’d apparently rubbed effectively with his cockhead. Anders nodded encouragingly, then gasped as Fenris’s fingers found a soft swell. He rubbed it in circles, watching raptly as Anders threw back his head, moaning, grinding his hips down against the bed and Fenris’s hand.

“Fen,” Anders panted. “You are going to kill me.”

Fenris was quite sure this was hyperbole, but the healer’s cock was very hard, jutting up, twitching as he massaged inside. Fenris felt a throb in his own cock, and without thinking he started stroking his own cock as he continued to tease Anders with his fingers, gasping at how sensitive he was.

Anders looked back at him, his eyes dark and dilated. “Fuck me, Fen,” he breathed.

Fenris’s brain sputtered to a halt. He found himself leaning over Anders, kissing him hard, then Anders rolled them both over, rubbing his hands down Fenris’s chest before kneeling over his hips. He reached behind himself and, as Fenris watched (and felt), grasped and then sank down onto Fenris’s cock in one smooth motion.

With Anders on top of him, tight, slick heat all around, Fenris felt nearly overwhelmed. Anders rolled his hips, his eyes fixed on Fenris’s face. Fenris moaned softly, feeling Anders move around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Anders breathed, rolling his hips again, then shifting his weight slightly and starting to rise up on his knees, drawing up along the shaft almost to the head, then coming back down with a huff. Fenris gasped, and Anders did it again, starting to lever himself up and down with long, controlled movements, throwing back his head. Fenris gripped Anders’s hips because he needed to put his hands somewhere, and he was struck by how much raw power was there, how taut his thighs and stomach were as he moved up and down, sheathing Fenris again and again.

“Fuck, Fen,” Anders sighed. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“How long?” Fenris asked, his heart pounding in his ears. He had an idea of how Anders would answer, based on their previous discussion, but he was mesmerized by how excited Anders was. Fenris pushed down the part of him that worried about being too dominating, too commanding, since he loved seeing Anders like this.

“Forever, since I first saw you.” He was panting, his voice breathless. “Wanted to have you fuck me, have you come in me. I’ve thought about it _so_ long, made myself come _so_ many times thinking about it, thinking about fucking myself on your gorgeous cock.” He started stroking his cock again. “It’s so good, Maker, your cock is so _good_.”

Fenris was speechless. He had _never_ heard Anders talk like this, and it was making him so hard his cock ached. He could already feel an orgasm building, unable to do anything but lay back and let Anders fuck himself on his cock. Because that’s what he was doing, taking his pleasure and tugging Fenris along with him, taking all of Fenris on every downstroke, and squeezing on every upstroke. As he stroked himself, Anders began riding harder, faster, Fenris’s hips slapping him on each downstroke, his strokes shortening but becoming no less intense.

“See how good you make me feel, Fen. See how you fill me up, fuck.” His breathing was ragged, the hand on his cock moving faster, dribbling precum down his hand and onto Fenris’s stomach. “I’m going to come so hard, Maker, fuck, you’re going to make me come so _hard_.”

Fenris was close to coming, and he let out a strangled groan, trying to keep himself from exploding.

Anders suddenly pitched forward, leaning over Fenris, his hair a golden curtain, and he kissed him, hard, panting into his mouth, his hips still gyrating, still pumping his cock against Fenris’s stomach. “Fen, I love you so much,” he breathed. “Love you so much. Love you, love you, love you, love you…”

Fenris’s hearing and vision whited out when he came. He felt the pressure and heat of Anders clenching around him, and he felt his whole body shudder as each spasm of pleasure was ripped from him, his hips bucking, and he let his orgasm wring him out since he had no choice, lying under Anders’s beautiful body as it jerked and shuddered on top of him, even more cum spilling all over his stomach. He felt a groan in his throat and mouth, felt it quiver, felt his body come apart, and finally felt empty, and like he was sinking deeply into the bed.

They lay in a heap for a long time. The healer was dead weight, his breathing gradually going slow and drowsy on Fenris’s shoulder. Fenris knew Anders was still awake though when he started to plant wet, tender, soft kisses along his shoulder, his chest, his neck. Fenris sighed, soaking up the attention.

“You are amazing,” Anders mumbled.

“You are _filthy_ ,” Fenris said, hoping he sounded impressed as he was.

Anders snorted, then covered his face in his hands. “Oh, Maker, I am,” he moaned, rolling off of Fenris onto his side, and Fenris, thrown by the sudden lack of contact, rolled to follow, facing him. Anders lowered his hands, and Fenris was relieved to see that the healer looked merely _extremely_ bashful, not truly upset, his cheeks very flushed. “You’ve learned what a _cockslut_ I am,” he whispered.

Shame was not a feeling Fenris would wish on anyone. However, he’d learned over the past months from Anders that there were _some_ types of shame that could feel good. He’d first seen it when he’d realized what a voyeur Anders was, bashful but getting off on watching and being watched. He’d seen it again when Anders confessed to wanting to have sex in camp with their friends nearby, wanting to stay quiet, but thrilled at the prospect of getting caught. Fenris had even felt it himself a few times, hearing praise and compliments from Anders’s lips. And he was now seeing it again with Anders’s latest confession, and he suddenly felt very, very protective.

Fenris grabbed the back of Anders’s neck and pulled him in for a hard kiss. Anders melted against him, and gasped when Fenris pulled him back.

“You are mine,” Fenris breathed. “My mage, my healer. _My_ cockslut. _My_ love.”

Anders’s eyes widened enormously. “Fen,” he hiccuped. “Fuck, Fen—”

Fenris drowned him in another kiss. He couldn’t touch enough of Anders, his hair, his sweat-damp skin, couldn’t taste enough of him. He felt so heavy with feelings, lust and love and gratitude, and he tried to kiss them all into Anders’s mouth. He whispered, “I love you, Anders. Love you, love your filthy mouth, your brilliant mind, your gentle hands. Love you. My mage.”`

Anders let out a happy sob, and Fenris did his best to kiss away every tear.


	2. Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris has lunch with Isabela, and asks for her advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some very non-specific references to Fenris's abuse while he was enslaved, and how it impacts his thinking about sex and romance, so I've updated the tags appropriately.

“Hello, sweet thing. How is the sexiest elf I know? I got us noodles from Asha’s, and that disgusting coffee you like.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and returned Isabela’s warm hug, ignoring her unsubtle pat to his ass, before following her through the soft, dark drapes that hung inside her door, and into her room.

Among all of their friends’ homes, Isabela’s room at the Hanged Man was possibly Fenris’s favorite. She had hung bright fabrics to cover the rough wooden walls, and removed all the Marchlander furnishings, replacing them with soft rugs and cushions, a sleeping mat, a hammock, and a low table for eating. It felt more like a cozy tent or a ship cabin than a small room in a dingy inn.

Fenris also knew that Isabela allowed very few people into her room, usually entertaining in the common room of the Hanged Man, or in Varric’s suite. She was even dressed in a more relaxed style, wearing soft trousers and a long scarf tied at her sides to serve as a blouse, her flashier jewelry replaced by big, thin gold hoop earrings and dozens of matching bracelets that jangled softly around her wrists. Her hair was unbraided and uncovered, forming a soft, dark halo around her head.

He deeply understood Isabela’s desire for privacy, and always felt honored by her willingness to share this less public facet of herself with him every time he got to see it, which was for their weekly lunches.

They sat across from each other at the low table and mixed together big bowls of cold rice noodles, crisp vegetables, spicy pork, and vinegar dressing, with the variety of sauces, oils, and seasonings Isabela always had on hand. Fenris sipped on his syrupy, sweet, hot, black coffee, and Isabela drank a tall glass of herbal tea, which definitely had rum mixed into it.

They ate in companionable silence for a short while. Fenris reflected on how, when he first came to Kirkwall, he did not have opinions about food. Food was fuel, and you took what you could get. But, once he’d had the time, money, and freedom to get to decide what and when he ate, he’d learned that his palate ran to things that were spicy, sour, and sweet. However, as he’d spent more and more time with his new friends, he’d discovered that most Southern people made, and seemed to _enjoy_ , food that did not taste very good at all. As a result, he’d become very grateful for Isabela’s stash of condiments on long Wounded Coast camping trips—especially if Hawke was cooking.

Then, he started to think about what he wanted to ask Isabela about, and was stirred from his reverie by Isabela saying something he’d obviously missed, grinning at him across the table.

“I apologize,” Fenris said. “What did you say?”

“I said you are doing something very right. _You_ are staring into space with the dreamiest look, and _Anders_ has been veritably skipping and whistling, even at the Bone Pit.” She chuckled. “Heh, Bone Pit. But seriously, what are you two up to? Did you find some kinky magic sex book at Xenon’s and not share?”

Over the short weeks following their first try at penetration, he and Anders had experimented. A lot. Anders liked getting fucked in a variety of positions, and Fenris thought it only reasonable to try them all to identify their mutual favorites. Points for efficiency went to having Anders bent over something, or up on his knees on the bed, and Fenris was deeply enchanted with having Anders ride him after their first attempt. He also liked taking his time and touching as much of Anders as he could, so if the healer was feeling flexible, Fenris liked to fold his long legs up and pump into him slow and deep, kissing him and hearing every moan right in his ear. Which is what he had been thinking about while he was supposed to be eating his lunch.

He knew Isabela was very experienced (and had some very minimal experience with her himself, during a drunken fling very long ago), so he was a bit abashed to admit that he and the mage were both so affected by doing something very ordinary. Fenris coughed to hide his embarrassment. “It is nothing,” he said. He knew this would not save him.

“Nothing! Surely not. Why—oh!” She clapped her hands together, her bracelets jingling. “You’re putting your _big sword_ in our favorite mage, aren’t you?”

Fenris sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Our healer is a bit like a complicated houseplant, sweet thing. His needs are really quite simple, but require careful handling to really make him bloom.”

“Was I supposed to know these needs up front?” Fenris asked acidly. “He did not exactly arrive with instructions.”

Isabela smiled warmly and squeezed his arm. “Telling you everything I know about how Anders liked to have sex the _first_ time I knew him might not be very helpful. It was long time ago, Fenris. He’s changed a lot, some for the better even, and people can like different things with different partners.” She paused. “But you. What do _you_ think about it?”

Fenris was used to Isabela’s pestering, but knew she also asked for another reason. Aside from Anders, Isabela was the only one of their friends who really knew the extent of his experiences, and he had found solace in confiding in her many of his worries and fears around having a relationship, and having sex. “I like it. I like very much it, and I like how happy it makes Anders. He gets—” Fenris paused.

“Talkative?” Isabela grinned.

Fenris nodded, unable to suppress his smile, but then bit his lip. “We have not done it the other way, however.”

“Do you feel pressure to?” Isabela asked gently.

He shook his head. “No. It has not even come up in conversation. I suggested what we _are_ doing.” Fenris thought back to Anders’s admission, that he’d been hoping Fenris would ask. He frowned. “I know now he wanted _this_ , but wanted me to ask. I believe he would want me to ask for that, too.”

Isabela nodded. “I think it’s him trying to let you lead, take things at your own pace. But I also think some of it is Anders’s romantic nature.” She sighed. “You know how he is.”

Fenris considered Anders’s romantic nature. He also considered his broad shoulders, his large, strong hands, his sharp jaw, his long, muscular legs. He also thought of Anders’s gentleness, his rarely indulged love of fine things, how much he enjoyed having his hair brushed.

Isabela snapped her fingers. “You’re mooning again.”

Fenris chuckled. “I apologize.”

“You two.” Isabela shook her head, smiling, her soft, tightly curled hair drifting back and forth.

“I know he wants me to feel I have agency,” Fenris said slowly, “and he sometimes worries about coddling me. But, in this, I—I may _want_ to be coddled.” He hoped she would understand.

Isabela’s face was very soft. “Do you want my advice?”

Fenris nodded.

She smiled again, and squeezed his hand. “If you want to, you’ll have to initiate, and you can expect that Anders will be very cautious. But I know you can be persuasive. And if you try it and you decide you don’t like it, for _any_ reason, that’s perfectly okay.”

She suddenly stood and came around to his side of the table and plopped down on the cushion next to him, wrapping him in a strong hug. “I am so proud of both of you. My _sweet_ boys. Now eat your lunch, then go home and get your gorgeous brains fucked out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was craving Vietnamese food when I wrote this, so Fenris and Isabela are eating bún thịt nướng chả giò. I was delighted to see that there's a "Lunch" tag.
> 
> I've romanced Fenris on every single one of my DA II playthroughs, so I've never actually experienced a Fenris romanced by Isabela, but I've always imagined they fooled around at some point but then bonded as friends over how weird Southerners are, and their common life experiences. I also really wanted to see Isabela's room at the Hanged Man, so I made one up.


	3. Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Anders set some boundaries, and Fenris gets his brains fucked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains allusions to past sexual abuse as Fenris processes some feelings, but there is nothing explicit or descriptive of that nature.
> 
> There is also more food, because apparently I'm very concerned with these boys getting enough to eat.

That afternoon, Fenris made a few preparations. He was expecting Anders for dinner, and he wanted to have something available to eat, but also wanted to give himself time to go through his exercises to help him relax, and also to take a bath. Finally, freshly washed, he assembled materials for a hearty dinner of cold, sliced ham, cheese (the kind Anders liked, but that gave Fenris a stomachache, and the kind that Fenris liked but Anders hated), butter, some tart jam, tomatoes from Hawke’s mothers’s garden, and fresh bread, thinking they could make sandwiches. (Fenris allowed drinks in bed, but drew the line at food, and ink.)

When he was ready, Anders had still not arrived, so Fenris went to sit on the steps inside the entry hall, like he had those weeks ago. This time, though, he’d actually poured two glasses of wine.

Finally, he detected hurried steps from the wine cellar. Anders sped into the entry hall, more lightly dressed than the last time, as summer was in full swing, and he was panting a bit. “Fenris! So sorry, love. The Coterie decided it would be a lovely day for some stabbings, and guess who is contractually obligated to—” He stopped, and looked at the wine glasses, Fenris’s freshly washed hair (which always became a little wavy as it dried), Fenris’s crisp, sleeveless tunic, and frowned. “Have I forgotten something very important today?”

Fenris’s brows knit. “Not that I am aware of?”

“Oh.” Anders’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s just you look even more radiant than usual, and you put wine in glasses, so I thought it was a special occasion I had forgotten.”

Fenris sighed. “I do not use glasses _that_ infrequently. And no, you have not forgotten anything.”

Anders smiled and came to sit next to him on the step. “Are we celebrating something new, then?”

Fenris handed Anders a glass of wine, then took a deep breath. “Anders, I have very much enjoyed what we have recently added to our…repertoire.”

Anders snorted, and grinned. “That is very good to hear.”

“However, I feel there is something lacking.”

Anders’s brow creased. “Lacking?”

“Not from _you_ ,” Fenris clarified. “But from me.”

Anders frowned. “Have we’ve been going too fast, or—well, I have been asking you to exert yourself a _lot_ —”

“Fasta vass,” Fenris hissed. “You will not ask, so I will. At least, I am _trying_ to.” He huffed, and looked down at his wine glass. “I would like us to reverse our roles. To at least try.” He glanced up.

Anders’s eyes went very wide. “To try—? Are you sure?”

Fenris nodded, but he found himself disinclined to maintain eye contact.

“Love.” Anders reached out and clasped his hand. “Look at me.”

Fenris looked, slowly, back at Anders. The healer’s eyes shone with warmth, and affection.

“Are you asking because _you_ want to, or because you think _I_ want to?” Anders said gently.

Fenris swallowed. “Both?”

Anders bit his lip, and cupped Fenris’s jaw. “I _do_ want to. I also want you to feel safe, and completely in control.”

“I know,” Fenris said softly. He kissed Anders’s palm. “I trust you. There is no one I would trust more.”

Anders worried at his lip. “We can start slow? Just a finger or two. Just to see if you even like it?”

Fenris thought about Anders’s big, lovely hands, and his big, lovely cock. “I would like all of you. But, we can start with just fingers,” he acquiesced. Isabela had been right, and he saw no reason to push it.

“Okay.” Anders dropped his hand from Fenris’s face and picked up his glass of wine again. “I would like to make a toast, to making you come so hard with my fingers in you that you see stars.”

Fenris grinned. “I see a star right now.”

Anders rolled his eyes, blushing furiously _._ They clinked glasses, and drank.

“Do you want to eat dinner first?” Fenris asked, aware that the healer was a bottomless pit.

“I think I am less hungry for food and more hungry for something else now,” he laughed, “but I should have something. I’m peckish.”

“Peckish” meant three sandwiches, and Fenris found himself unable to stop smiling as they ate and drank more wine together in the kitchen. It was a little like when they had first begun to dance around each other, but it was now centered in how comfortable he was with Anders, how safe Anders made him feel, even when he didn’t always feel safe with himself. When Anders’s plate was finally empty, Fenris stood from his chair, circled the table, and pointedly settled into Anders’s lap, straddling him, draping his arms around Anders’ broad shoulders.

“Is this you being ready?” Anders laughed, his arms wrapping around Fenris’s slim waist.

Fenris nodded and kissed him. Anders hummed and his hands rubbed down to Fenris’s ass, massaging through his thin trousers, pulling him close. Fenris licked into his mouth, tasting the wine, and rolled his hips in Anders’s lap. He’d been hard on and off all day, thinking about Anders, his body, his hands, his cock, the sounds he made, imagining what it was going to feel like to have any part of him _inside_. He quickly found himself getting hard again now, now that Anders was so close, and he could see him, and touch him, and smell him.

“Mm, you _are_ ready,” Anders said, smiling against his lips. He left kisses along Fenris’s jaw and murmured playfully in his ear, “Did you touch yourself today?”

Fenris felt a rush of heat,  and sucked in his breath . He’d  _almost_ gotten himself off in the bath, but had  decided to wait. “No,” he breathed.

A nders hummed, and licked the edge of his ear, sending a shiver through him. “But you were thinking about it? About coming on my fingers?” He paused. “My cock?”

Fenris was shocked at the wave of want that surged through him, his cock suddenly feeling heavy and extremely constrained by his trousers. He  looked into  Anders’s warm, dilated eyes. “Yes, Anders,” he said, pitching his voice low, knowing that it did things to the healer.

Anders licked his lips. “ I want to take you to bed, and I want to finger you until you come.”

“Yes, Anders,” Fenris said, smiling, leaning in for a kiss. His eyes went wide when Anders instead stood up, still holding him, and Fenris grabbed Anders’s shoulders for balance.

Anders hefted him, grinning. “C’mon,  love. Let me take care of you.”

At something in Anders’s tone, Fenris felt a pang in his chest, a tightness that turned into warmth when he breathed through it. He closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms and legs tightly around Anders, breathing in his scent, musk and elfroot, as Anders carried him to his bedroom.

J ust like that other first time, Anders gently dropped him on the bed, but this time immediately touched the hem of his shirt. “Can I undress you?” he murmured.

Fenris nodded, and let Anders peel his shirt off, unbutton his trousers, and unfasten his smalls, sliding them down at the same time  for Fenris to wiggle out of them .  Fenris touched Anders’s belt, and  Anders smiled and quickly nodded. Fenris got up on his knees to unbuckle  the belt, tug his tunic off,  undo his trousers. Anders’s cock was already hard too, not as hard as it would get, but close, and Fenris  felt his mouth water .  After a moment, he also undid the tie in the healer’s hair, so his long hair could tumble down around his shoulders, and Anders smiled.

Without thinking,  Fenris reached out a hand and gave  Anders’s cock a slow stroke from root to tip, feeling its velvety texture, its heat, thinking about what it might feel like to have inside him. Anders gasped, then quickly leaned forward  for a hard  kiss .

Finally, Anders broke off the kiss and murmured, “Lie back and get comfortable, and I’ll get the slick, okay?”

Fenris did lie back, but he found getting comfortable difficult. The nervous feeling in his  gut returned, and he watched anxiously as Anders went to the bedside drawer, got the  jar of grease , and  knelt on the bed . There must have been something in Fenris’s face that broadcast this, since Anders immediately  drew near and  curled himself around Fenris again. Fenris clung to him, trying to quiet his breathing, feeling embarrassed, and frustrated.

“Hey,” Anders said softly. “How are you doing?”

“I…” Fenris frowned. “I am disappointed with myself.”

“Love,” Anders chided. He covered Fenris’s face in kisses. “We never, ever, _ever_ have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“But I _do_ want to.” He felt petulant, the tight feeling in his chest rising, his stomach feeling sick. He was worried he was going to cry.

Anders rubbed his back and neck, his hands pressing firmly, never losing contact. This type of touch always had the effect of making Fenris very aware of his body, but in a _good_ way, a way that made his brain slow, and he pressed his face into Anders’s neck, and made himself breathe deeply, and gradually the sick feeling in his chest and stomach started to subside.

“I love you so much,” Anders said softly. “So, so much.” His caresses were getting lighter, still not _too_ light, and drifting to other parts, his hair, his thighs. “I want you to be happy, and safe, and for you to feel all the things you _want_ to feel.” He kissed Fenris’s nose, his forehead, his frowning mouth, then drew back to look at him. “How about this: I touch you like I usually do, and if you want me to do something different, we can go from there?”

Fenris thought for a moment.  “Can we stay like this?” Anders was still curled around him, cradling him, as if Fenris was sitting in his lap sideways, but lying down. It felt very nice.

“Absolutely,” Anders affirmed.

“Alright.” Fenris smoothed Anders’s hair away from his face, looking at his warm eyes, his long, freckled nose, his mouth. Before he could think more, he kissed that soft, surprised mouth, and Anders made a quiet sound in his throat.

They kissed softly for a bit, and Fenris  felt Anders’s skin, his hair, feeling his hands on him, knowing this was  _Anders_ , Anders who would never hurt him.  His erection had withered, but he felt  a lick of want return when Anders moaned softly into his mouth and rubbed a big hand soothingly up and down Fenris’s chest and stomach. When he got aroused, they’d found that his whole front became sensitive, and he felt that warm th start to grow, start to make its way down to his groin. He could feel Anders’s cock stir  again too , which sent a bolt of desire through him.

A nders broke off the kiss and pressed soft kisses along his jaw, his neck, his ear, his shoulder, and Fenris arched into them, feeling Anders’s soft breath,  his nose nuzzling .

“Love you,” Anders murmured.

Fenris swallowed and  guided Anders’s hand between his legs. “Touch me,” he whispered.

Anders smiled  and  went back to kissing Fenris’s neck, and wrapped his warm hand around Fenris’s still-soft cock, starting to alternate between tugging it gently and lightly massaging his sack. Fenris willed himself to relax his tense legs and hips, and spread his legs a bit more where they were  angled over Anders’s long legs.

“Can I touch underneath?” Anders asked softly.

Fenris nodded quickly, and Anders smiled, losing no time in sliding his fingers under his sack, avoiding his hole, but pressing expertly on that place inside him. Fenris felt a rush of  anticipation , and bore down on Anders’s fingers, which started to carefully, but firmly,  massage him.  Before long, he felt that  now-familiar, soft, rolling wave  of pleasure start to grow , and Fenris couldn’t help the moan that came out of him, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes.

“Just relax,” Anders murmured, kissing his shoulder and neck again. “Even if this is all we do, that’s okay.”

Fenris wanted to protest, but part of him also found the idea very attractive, just relaxing, letting Anders hold him, touch him, and the thought _did_ seem to perk up his cock.

A s Fenris hardened further,  Anders  continued to kiss his neck and shoulder and ear, and  began to alternate between massaging  him, and stroking his cock,  slowly, firmly.

“How are you doing?” Anders asked, smiling.

Fenris let out a chuckle that turned into a moan when Anders’s fingers dug more sharply into him. “Good,” he  gasped .

“Mmm, that’s good to hear.”Anders’s voice was right in his ear, and Fenris shivered, and Anders licked up the long, sensitive edge of his ear at the same time as he went back to slowly stroking Fenris’s cock.

Fenris moaned, and found himself pump ing his hips into Anders’s strokes, letting himself move without thinking. He looked down  again to see Anders’s big, gentle hand wrapped around his cock, and he felt a surge of heat.

“I want—” Fenris was clearly _distracted_ and he heard a soft, warm laugh from Anders _._ “I want your fingers, inside me,” he finally said.

“Okay,” Anders murmured. “Maker’s balls, where did I put—oh, here.” His hand darted away for a moment to search for the grease, and he popped the jar open with one dexterous hand. Anders scooped up a liberal amount of slick, and gave Fenris a surprising stroke along his cock, eliciting a gasp.

Anders,  smiling, pressed kisses to his temple, his hair,  then slowly moved his slick hand under Fenris’s sack. “Just one to start, okay?”

Fenris nodded, biting his lip.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t Anders returning to just massaging him with one slick finger. He wanted to move, wanted to ask him to hurry up, but instead he made himself be patient, and felt heat build again under Anders’s finger. He barely noticed when Anders’s finger slipped lower and began circling his hole. He gasped, more out of surprise than anything, then went slack-jawed when the pleasure that had been building behind his sack continued as Anders’s finger touched him _there_. He had never before put together that _this_ could feel good. Finally, Anders began to press, the tip of his finger just breaching him.

Fenris drew in his breath and felt himself tighten, and breathed out purposefully. This was  _Anders_ , Anders who was holding him, Anders who loved him.

“I’ve got you, love,” Anders whispered, pushing his finger in further, slowly, then drawing it out, pumping it shallowly, his others fingers just touching behind his sack, until Fenris had a hard time telling the new sensation from the other he liked so much. Slowly, Anders worked his finger in further, then finally to the knuckle.

Fenris gasped, and felt himself clench. Anders’s finger was big, and unyielding, and it felt _strange_ , but not _bad_. Almost as soon as he was feeling more comfortable, Anders drew it out all the way, and began to massage again, making that hot feeling in him start to rebuild.

“How was that?” Anders asked.

“Do it again,” Fenris demanded.

Anders laughed, and did as he asked, and this time Fenris sigh ed on the slide in,  and  Anders wiggled his finger a bit.

“Can I kiss you more?” Anders asked softly.

Fenris smiled and nodded, and Anders pressed a sweet, soft kiss to his mouth. While they kissed, he crooked his finger, and Fenris felt a hot spark deep inside, and then when Anders pressed more firmly the feeling expanded into a burst of pleasure that caught him completely off guard.

“ _Anders_ ,” he gasped.

Anders hummed and started massaging  _from inside_ , and Fenris immediately thought back to when he’d watched Anders do this to himself. The  feeling grew further ,  the flush of heat expanding,  and before long Fenris found himself bearing down on Anders’s hand  for more pressure ,  panting .

“Mmm, there we are,” Anders murmured. His finger pressed more firmly, and Fenris moaned, and then he eased up and circled that spot lightly.

Fenris tried to chase Anders’s finger for more friction, and Anders laughed softly and withdrew his finger, leaving him feeling empty.

“What do you think? Ready to try two?” Anders wiggled two slick fingers playfully.

“If it means you’re done _teasing_ , yes,” Fenris huffed.

Anders laughed again. “There’s my prickly porcupine.” He started to  circle again, pressing lightly, breaching with just the tips  of what must have been two fingers a few times. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

Fenris lifted his hips impatiently, and quickly enough that Anders couldn’t pull back, and both fingers slid to the middle joint. Fenris gasped  and clenched, hard.

“That’s why I want to take it slow, love,” Anders chided. “Just lie back. Let me take care of you.” He pressed kisses to Fenris’s brow, his nose, his temple. “Just breathe.”

Fenris breathed out deliberately and let his hips sink back to the bed. To his delight, Anders starting rubbing that spot inside him again, this time with two fingers, circling with even pressure. That good sensation returned, and he laid his head back on the pillow with a sigh, getting used to the new feeling of fullness. Occasionally, Anders would scissor his fingers, just a bit, and then would go back to rubbing.

Fenris found himself rocking his hips in time with the massage, chasing Ander’s fingers, and Anders responded by starting to slowly pump them in and out, still rubbing, but going deeper too, and the sensation felt like it was radiating all the way to his cock.

“How are you doing?” Anders asked. Fenris could hear the smile in his voice before he turned to look. He must have looked a mess, if the way Anders’s eyes darkened and his mouth went slack were any indication. Anders quickly regrouped, however, and said, smiling again, “You feel amazing. I can feel you opening up around me.”

“Anders,” Fenris breathed.

Anders’s smile widened, and he laughed. “It’s quite something to knock all those big words out of you. I’m glad I’ve found a way to make your beautiful brain turn off a bit.”

That reminded Fenris of something Isabela had said, and his breath caught.

Anders’s faced changed from pleased and attentive to concerned and attentive. “Are you okay?” He stopped moving his fingers.

Fenris nodded quickly, frustrated that Anders had stopped, and sighed with relief when he started  moving his fingers again. He swallowed. “Isabela  wished me good luck in, as she put it, getting my brains fucked out.”

Anders threw his head back and laughed, then pressed forward to kiss Fenris soundly, his fingers pumping and massaging all the while. “ I would love to do that. Make  them melt out your ears.”  Anders resettled around him, holding him more firmly, and Fenris was reminded of Anders’s hard cock against his  thigh . “Can I try?”

Fenris felt  a creeper vine of  nerves again, but almost immediately it was smothered by the feeling that grew in response to how Anders was looking at him: intently, like this was a challenge,  and also like he was extremely turned on . Fenris nodded, slowly, and almost immediately felt Anders’s strokes change. They became shorter, and his fingers curled more sharply, putting almost all of the pressure of each in-stroke on that place inside of him,  and a drag over it on the out-stroke .  The pressure became more constant, the feeling more inte n se,  and then he stopped  suddenly ,  pressing both fingers in to the knuckle,  making Fenris gasp .

He kept his fingers inside  for a few moments , and Fenris  felt himself clench involuntarily , panting.  It felt  _good_ , just being full, and he  moaned softly .  He  could feel Anders smile, and he returned to that new rhythm of short-sharp thrusts,  first slowly, but speeding up,  and now Fenris felt  even more relaxed , Anders’s fingers rubbing all of his inner walls while still focusing on that one spot, and the enormous rush of  sensation he felt made him  groan .

F rom there, the pleasure crescendo ed quickly. The radiating feeling grew, until it felt like Anders’s fingers were touching inside the base of his cock, in the juncture of his thighs, in his sack.  Fenris realized he was making little rhythmic moans, rocking his hips to meet Anders’s fingers, and suddenly  he  felt like he was about to come, but then didn’t, the feeling tamping down into a tight coil. Anders’s  motions remained steady, and the  sensation started to grow again,  Fenris’s nerves feeling like live wires, but then the pressure dropped away again.

Fenris  moaned in frustration . “Anders,” he gasped. “ W ant — c an’t — ”

Anders voice was rough  but soft in his ear. “Touch  your cock and help me make you come?”  A question, a suggestion, never a demand.

Fenris’s brain latched on to this advice as if it were the wisest thing he’d ever heard, and without a moment of hesitation he grabbed his cock, which Anders had so thoughtfully slicked for him, and started to stroke, following the rhythm that Anders was using to finger him.  Almost i mmediately, the hot, tight feeling  inside him began to flow like lava into his cock, and he moaned with pleasure.

He was torn between closing his eyes and laying his head back and just letting it happen, and looking down to see his own hand on his cock, watch Anders’s  fingers pumping in and out of him, hearing the wet sound of the slick, the sound of his own panting breath.  Another  enormous surge of sensation, then his release danced away again.  H i s cock  was  aching.

He groaned and threw his head back. “ _Anders_ .”

A nders pumping fingers sped up, and Fenris moaned, rocking his hips into each thrust, speeding up his strokes to match. He thought back to Anders’s face, his sounds, his touches, while Fenris was inside him, and he felt  the curl of tight pleasure start to spiral in his gut at the center of the ebbing and flowing heat that was sloshing around in him.

“Anders,” he gasped softly, realizing something. Then he laughed. “You’re _inside_ me.”

Anders grinned. “I  _am_ . ”

Fenris felt his hips go loose, felt himself bounce on Anders’s fingers. When Anders’s fingers went in, he moved down to meet them, and as they withdrew he bucked up into his own hand, and it  sudden l y  felt so easy, so  _good_ , that tight point of pleasure stabilizing.

“That’s it, love,” Anders breathed. “That’s it.”

Anders  suddenly stopped pumping  again ,  but this time his  fingers curled  and focused on that place inside him,  letting Fenris drive the friction as he moved his hips.  He  pumped his cock harder, moaning, and felt the pressure build, Anders’s fingers relentless, and heard the moan peter out into a high, soft sound  when he finally found release .

The long, powerful spasms of pleasure felt like they spanned between his hole and his cock, and down his thighs, hot tingles skittering over the lyrium and looping like electricity on a wire. His legs jerked, his back arched, Anders’s fingers _continuing_ to rub him. His hips thrust weakly and his sack clenched painfully, and he squeezed the base of his cock, but he continued to come, moaning with every breath, riding Anders’s fingers as they rubbed every last drop out of him, and even after.

Finally, Fenris laid back, gasping, oversensitive, but not wanting it to stop, his cock twitching, his muscles  on fire . After a few moments, he registered that Anders was starting to pull his fingers out, and Fenris’s hand shot down to grab Anders’s,  and keep it where it was.

“Please,” he gasped.

Anders, his eyes wide, nodded.

Fenris drew in a shuddering breath and kept holding Anders’s hand. He turned his head to Anders. “Kiss me?” he asked.

Anders kissed him like he was starving and Fenris was the most sumptuous meal he’d ever  tasted . He managed to curl his other arm around Fenris, and held him tightly, licking inside his mouth, breathing hard.  Fenris could feel  Anders’s erection, still pressed against his ass, and he shifted to spread his legs  further and put more room between himself and Anders’s lap. Still clasping Anders’s hand inside him, he reached down between his legs with his free hand, a bit awkwardly, and wrapped it around Anders’s  hot,  steel-hard cock.

Anders moaned loudly, and immediately began thrusting into Fenris’s hand, throwing his head back, his eyes shut, tilting his hips so he could lever himself up from the bed. After only a few strokes, his body went rigid, and he groaned, coming over their hands, his hips stuttering, his fingers inside Fenris twitching and curling, making him gasp with overstimulation, before Anders finally collapsed back onto the bed.

They lay panting for a while. Fenris still felt full, in a _good_ way, Anders’s fingers still inside him, while his head felt quite empty, his body exhausted and a tiny bit sore, _also_ in a good way. Finally, Anders stirred, and kissed his shoulder.

“Fuck,” Anders sighed. He looked down at the mess they’d both made. “ _Fuck_.”

Fenris was pretty sure he was feeling the same way, but he didn’t seem to have the words at hand, nor the will to say anything at all, so he just sighed and snuggled closer to Anders,  closing his eyes.

Anders hummed and nestled closer, then seemed to shake himself awake. To Fenris’s dismay, he started to move his hand again. Fenris frowned and made a sound that may have been a whine.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep with my fingers in you, love,” Anders chided.

Fenris sighed, still frowning,  but nodded. Anders gently slid his fingers out, and the feeling he was left with was shocking  _emptiness_ , then a slight ache as his muscles seemed to try to collapse back together.

“You might be a little sore in the morning. Let me know, and I’ll take care of it,” Anders was murmuring, kissing his forehead.

Fenris looked at him, a bit dazed. Anders was carrying on as if  they’d just had sex like they regularly did, not like  something extraordinary  had happened. Anders must have seen this on Fenris’s face, and smiled, then looked almost shy.

“Did you like it?” Anders asked.

Fenris huffed. He wanted to grab Anders and shake him, but his hands were still covered in cum. “Did I like it. Anders, it was  astonishing .”

Anders’s smile widened. “Oh! I’m glad.” His clean hand came up to stroke Fenris’s hair, his neck, his expression still strangely shy,  and he  met Fenris’s eyes again. “I’m so glad.”

Fenris leaned to kiss him, hard, and Anders moaned softly. Still against his mouth, Fenris whispered, “ M y  mage .”

“Fenris,” Anders breathed.

“Mine,” Fenris whispered.

“Yours,” Anders sighed.

Eventually, they grew tired of the feeling of sweat and cum drying, and used a  rag to wipe off, then collapsed back into a heap. Fenris curled against Anders’s side and Anders pulled the covers up over them both, before wrapping Fenris securely in his arms. Fenris felt very sleepy all of a sudden, the quiet, floaty feeling replaced with a deep and pleasant exhaustion.  Before he fell asleep, however, there was something he wanted to make very clear.

“Next time,” he mumbled against Anders’s chest, “I want more fingers.”

There was a brief silence, then Anders groaned. “Fen, you can’t just  _say_ things like that.”

“I cannot?”

“Not with your _voice_.”

“Then how am I _supposed_ to say them?” Fenris deadpanned.

“You wicked elf,” Anders sighed. “You are going to kill me. I am going to die in this bed.”

“Na via lerno victoria, Anders.”

“Mmm. I do think we were _both_ victorious, don’t you?”

Fenris smiled,  and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Na via lerno victoria ("Only the living know victory") is one of Fenris's earnest quotes at the end of the game, but I feel like he has enough of a sense of humor to say it sarcastically as well.


	4. Give and Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more fluffy smut, and some heartfelt friendship. I hope we can all agree that Varric wears reading glasses.

It was several days (and several more nights with Anders) before Fenris saw Isabela again, and it was not in an environment conducive to giving her an update about his sex life. They were all gathered around Varric’s table at the Hanged Man to prepare for a night of slaver-killing down on the docks. Varric and Hawke were discussing tactics as the others reviewed bounties, descriptions, and ship records Aveline had acquired. Anders was seated between Isabela and Fenris on one side of the table, and was drumming his fingers on the tabletop, antsy to get going, and then back to the clinic. After some moments, Fenris shot a hand out to still the mage’s.

“Be still, Anders,” he said, only half-joking. “Your fingers are unnerving.”

“That’s not what you said about my fingers last night,” Anders said immediately, his voice suddenly too loud in a lull of the conversation, which stopped abruptly.

Fenris sighed deeply.

“Oh _ho_!” Isabela crowed. “Has Sparklefingers gotten his _healing hands_ inside our shiny elf?”

The rest of the group looked up from their scattered papers to stare at the three of them with a wide variety of expressions.

“Anders,” Merrill asked, “did Fenris teach you how to do the magical fisting thing? It _does_ seem like it could be very helpful for healing people.”

“No, Merrill,” Anders sighed, “not exactly.”

“Any _other_ parts worth mentioning?” Isabela continued. “Your _magic staff_ perhaps?”

“Izzy,” Anders warned.

“Can we _please_ _not._ ” Aveline begged through clenched teeth.

“I’m afraid I do have to suggest we table chitchat,” Hawke agreed, a bit flushed, “since we’re on a tight schedule for this evening.”

“Oh I’m sure it’s tight, alright,” Isabela snickered under her breath.

“ _Izzy_ ,” Anders hissed.

Merrill looked around, then sat back in their chair. “It’s a sex thing, isn’t it. Shemlen are so strange about talking about sex. Fenris, congratulations on whatever it is you’re doing with Anders’s fingers.”

“Thank you, Merrill,” Fenris deadpanned, hoping this would be the end of it.

Later, after they had disposed of the bodies, shepherded the mostly elven former slaves to Merrill’s safehouse in the Alienage, and Aveline had returned to the barracks with the paperwork, Anders and Fenris went to the clinic. Anders worked on some preparations he needed for patients scheduled to visit tomorrow, and Fenris removed and cleaned his armor, catching Anders’s sidelong glances and adorable frowns. Fenris was carefully wiping slaver blood out of the delicate joins of his gauntlets with an oiled rag when Anders finally sidled up to him. The healer’s broad shoulders were hunched, making him look bit smaller than he already seemed without his bulky coat.

“Fen, I’m very sorry,” he said. “My big mouth.” He bit his lip. “Is this more or less embarrassing than that time everyone knew I was sucking you off in camp?”

Fenris considered. “Less,” he decided. “I know I should expect this now.”

Anders sighed and seemed to deflate further.

“Anders,” Fenris chided, “I am not angry.”

Anders stared. “ _Really_?”

Fenris paused his cleaning, wiped his hands carefully, and put the rag and gauntlets down on Anders’s work table with the rest of his armor. “I have accepted that we cannot keep many secrets from our friends, and their interest in our relationship is supportive, if not always…constructive. I did tell you I like your filthy mouth, and I have also accepted that it will sometimes get you into trouble.”

Anders perked up a bit. “Trouble?”

“Yes, trouble.” Fenris stepped in front of Anders and slipped his arms around the mage’s waist, going up on his toes for a kiss.

Anders’s arms came around him immediately, and he hummed happily. When they parted, he asked, “Speaking of getting _into_ things, after you’re done cleaning your armor, would you like to join me in my cozy hovel? I was wondering if I could help you put your sword away, if you know what I mean.”

Fenris sighed. “Isabela is a terrible influence.”

“She is,” Anders agreed. “But honestly if it weren’t for her, we’d probably still be mooning over each other and complaining to everyone, but not doing anything about it.”

Fenris smiled. “I fear you are right.” He held Anders tighter, feeling a bit giddy, and dropped his voice to a soft growl that made Anders shiver. “And yes, I’ll show you _exactly_ where to put my sword, _mage_.”

Fenris had to admit that he sped a bit through his cleaning, and Anders may have been making a bit more messthan usual as he quickly filled and organized jars of herbs and potions. Finally they were both done, and Anders drew Fenris into the little nook at the back of the clinic that he called his own, separated off with a heavy curtain. Anders lit the lamp, and Fenris looked around at the small, dim, tidy space: the high, narrow bed that was nothing more than a thin mattress and blankets on some reinforced crates, a small desk, a stool, a collection of hooks on the wall for clothes and bags, and a bowl for washing. Anders quickly distracted him, however, draping himself around Fenris’s shoulders and kissing him deeply, which he responded to by wrapping his arms around Anders’s waist and pressing close.

Anders seemed extremely keen on getting Fenris inside him as quickly as possible, which Fenris used to his advantage. He undressed Anders slowly, methodically, then himself, watching Anders’s eyes, dilated in the dimness. Anders’s cock was already very hard, and Fenris pointedly didn’t touch it while he was arranging Anders on the bed so he could finger him open. He realized he was missing something though. “Anders, do you have grease?”

Anders’s eyes widened. “Um. I can make some? If that’s alright.”

Fenris nodded. Anders looked relieved, and Fenris felt a cool, slick pull on the lyrium when Anders quickly cast, and then his hand was full of clear, odorless grease. He slicked some over himself quickly, doing his best not to gasp and give away how on edge he already was. To his shock and delight, Anders folded up his legs and gripped them behind the knees with his hands, spreading himself and putting himself lewdly on display. In the dim light, Fenris could tell he was already flushed, his eyes glistening in the lamplight.

His mouth suddenly dry, Fenris worked one, and then, quickly, two fingers into Anders. Anders sighed and gasped, rocking against Fenris’s hand. Fenris pumped his fingers in and out steadily, spreading them gently on the out-strokes, and he could feel Anders start to relax around him. This task, which he’d happily taken on, still fascinated him. He liked watching Anders do it to himself very much, but that usually turned into a bit of a show, and he didn’t think either of them wanted to take the time for that tonight.

A third finger made Anders moan softly, and he tilted his hips. Fenris took the hint and started to curl his fingers against that spot inside, and Anders moaned and wriggled happily. Unable to help smiling himself, Fenris spent a few moments just teasing Anders with his fingertips.

“Fen, I’m ready,” Anders laughed breathily.

“Very well.” Fenris withdrew his fingers, and positioned himself over Anders, his hands on the bed in the spaces between Anders’s sides and his tense legs, leaning forward on his arms, spreading his knees wide to stay low, and angling his jutting cock into Anders’s hot, slick hole in one smooth thrust.

Anders threw his head back and let out a low, quavering moan.

Fenris froze. “Too much?”

“ _No_.” Anders shook his head vehemently, grinning, and pulled his legs even wider, letting Fenris sink further. They both gasped.

Fenris leaned down and licked at Anders’s chest, and Anders levered himself up to kiss Fenris, hard, his teeth nipping at Fenris’s lower lip. As they kissed, Fenris started to move, rocking his hips with most of his weight on his arms, and Anders met every thrust. Fenris was intoxicated by how in control he felt, how responsive Anders was under him despite the restrictive position, and how much he wanted to make Anders feel _extremely_ good.

He stayed deep, rolling his hips, feeling like his cock was being hugged snugly, which made him think of having Anders’s strong arms around him, holding him. The thought made his breath catch. “Anders.”

Anders was panting softly, his eyes dilated. “Fenris.”

“You feel…” He didn’t know what to say.

“Fen,” Anders breathed, grinning. “ _Fuck_ , you feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

Fenris felt overwhelmed, and kissed him again, grinding his hips down. Anders was so tight at this angle, so hot, and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. He broke off the kiss and straightened his arms, shifting some of his weight back to his knees, and thrust quicker.

Anders moaned and stopped trying to meet each plunge, instead angling his hips and bracing himself, gripping the backs of his knees even harder.

Fenris looked down and saw that Anders’s cock was leaking precum over his flushed stomach, red and so stiff it looked almost painful. He was contemplating how to rearrange himself to be able to touch Anders’s cock at the same time, and as if reading his thoughts, Anders laughed.

“Don’t,” Anders said, grinning, breathless. “I want to come just from your cock.”

The idea sent a bolt of heat through Fenris’s body. “You can come just from _this_?” he asked, agog at the possibilities.

Anders nodded, and Fenris shifted his weight to his arms so he could lever his hips more, slowing, but lengthening his strokes. Anders gasped at the change in rhythm, rocking his hips as much as he could into each stroke.

Fenris slowed down even further, pulling out almost fully, making himself gasp with the sensation but trying to hold himself together. It was already challenging enough to watch Anders knit his brows and bite his lip, and feel him roll his hips even more, as if he was trying to coax Fenris to go faster. Fenris grinned. “What about like this?” he asked, teasingly.

“Fen, you are going to kill me,” Anders gasped.

Fenris felt a rush of pleasure just at how Anders’ body was reacting, going taut, moving more desperately, squeezing around him. “Slower?” he asked. “Faster?”

Anders gasped, and moaned softly. “Faster, please. Faster.”

Grinning, Fenris slowed further.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Anders moaned, laughing. “ _Please_.”

“I _am_ , Anders,” Fenris said, smirking.

Anders let out another laugh that turned into a desperate moan on another slow out-stroke, then a groan of dismay when the in-stroke was just as drawn out.

Fenris chuckled and lowered himself on his arms again. He pressed kisses to Anders’s chest, tasting sweat, and scraped his teeth over a peaked nipple, eliciting a gasp. “I like you like this,” Fenris murmured.

Anders smiled, panting. “I like _you_ like this. _Very_ much.”

Fenris felt a flush of heat that wasn’t just from the sex, and Anders angled up for another hard kiss. Fenris sank deep and paused, and Anders moaned again when Fenris started pumping his hips in short, sharp, quick thrusts, still buried almost to the hilt.

Fenris pushed back up on his arms and threw his weight into it, watching Anders sink back on the bed and rock his hips. Anders was moaning softly on each thrust, a quiet “oh, oh, oh” sound that made Fenris’s loins ache. Without thinking, Fenris kissed along Anders’s taut inner thighs, his knees, his calves, letting his strokes get heavier, hearing the slap of his thighs against Anders’s ass. Anders’s breathy, rhythmic moans got lower, rougher, and when Fenris lightly bit the meat of his calf, Anders groaned and shuddered, his cock twitching.

“Fen,” he moaned. “Fen, please.”

“What do you need?” Fenris asked. He felt so good, loving the feel of Anders on his cock, but almost loving this give and take, their dialogue, even more.

“Harder,” Anders gasped.

Fenris thought back to the first time he’d done this, just a few weeks ago. He pulled out quickly, to a dismayed moan from Anders, and quickly resettled on his knees, tucking them up under Anders’s spread ass. He wrapped his hands around Anders’s splayed thighs and pulled him back onto his jutting cock, unable to suppress the moan he let out as Anders enveloped him. Fenris started to piston his hips, hard and deep.

“Oh, fuck, _yes_ ,” Anders moaned.

“Can you come like this?” Fenris asked, his voice low, breathy.

“Yes, yes, yes, _fuck_ , _yes_.”

“Good,” Fenris breathed, and sped up further.

A moan caught in Anders’s throat, and he went very quiet for a few moments, his back arched, his head thrown back, his hips braced, taking every one of Fenris’s hard, fast thrusts. “Fuck me,” he moaned, breathlessly, making Fenris’s loins tighten with lust, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Fen—”

“Tell me when you’re going to come?” Fenris asked, panting, feeling sweat and escaping grease start to slick his thighs. It was a selfish question; he wanted to make Anders come first, so he could _feel_ it, _and_ he wanted to hear Anders try to talk through his current state.

“So close,” Anders gasped. “ _Maker_ , I’m so close.”

“My love,” Fenris breathed, feeling hot and wild. “My mage.”

Anders moaned. “Fuck, Fen. _Fuck_ , I love you. I love you _so much_. Fuck, so _close_. You feel so good, so _fucking_ good. I—I, fuck—I’m—love—I—Fen— _now_ , I can’t—” He went rigid, his mouth open in a silent moan, his eyes squeezed shut. Still pumping into him but staying deep, Fenris felt Anders’s inner muscles spasm hard around his cock, fucking thick jets of cum out of the healer. He groaned with the effort of holding off his release, as Anders kept coming around him, more cum spurting and dribbling over his belly, their thighs.

Finally Anders went limp, still holding his legs, his face lax with bliss and exhaustion, and Fenris picked up the pace even more, chasing his own end. Anders moaned encouragingly, his strong, heavy body taking every thrust, his eyes open, his expression fond and sated. Fenris finally let himself focus again on how good Anders felt around his aching cock.

“Come in me, Fen,” Anders sighed, his voice rough and warm. “You feel so good, love. Come in me.”

Fenris felt his breath catch, his chest tight, and he felt his last shred of control dissolve. He buried himself to the root, holding Anders’s hips hard against him, and rocked Anders’s relaxed, warm body as he came in slow, hard, long spasms that felt so good they were almost painful. He groaned, his voice rough, feeling the wetness of his own cum, and then shuddered through a series of aftershocks that quaked him to his core, moaning mindlessly.

After what felt like an eternity and no time at all, he let go of Anders’s splayed legs and just managed to catch himself on his arms as he felt forward onto Anders’s chest, then lay panting. He felt Anders lower his legs with a gasp, then stretch, then felt long arms wrap loosely around his back. Anders’s skin was so hot, and he smelled so good, and Fenris rubbed his face into the soft hair on Anders’s chest with a deep sigh.

“Fen,” Anders sighed.

Fenris responded with a hum and soft kisses along Anders’s chest.

“Can you come up here?” Anders asked, sounding drowsy.

Fenris unfolded himself shakily and moved to blanket Anders, and they settled more comfortably into what had become their customary post-coital cuddle. Fenris melted when Anders wrapped him up again in his arms with a deep sigh. At this point Fenris was used to Anders chattering and petting him after they had sex, so he was a bit unnerved at the silence and stillness that followed. After a little while, he lifted his head and was astonished to see that Anders seemed to be nearly asleep.

Fenris carefully wriggled out of bed, smoothing Anders’s hair when he made a grumpy noise, and hunted for a clean cloth. He settled for a stray bandage roll, and carefully wiped up as much of the mess as he could from both of them, then put out the lamp. Anders only moved again when Fenris clambered back onto the healer’s narrow bed, pulling covers over them both, and settled against Anders again.

To Fenris’s surprise, Anders rolled over toward him, then almost on top of him, pressing his face into Fenris’s neck and snuggling close in a reversal of their usual positions. Fenris blew some golden hair out of his mouth and settled his arms around Anders’s broad shoulders. After a moment, he stroked Anders’s hair and rubbed his back the way Anders did for him when he was splayed out like this. Anders made a happy noise, coiled his long limbs around Fenris, and then went still with a deep sigh.

* * *

“So.” Isabela was grinning, perched next to Fenris at a table near the bar.

Fenris looked up from his ale to make sure that Corff was not standing immediately next to them, then back at Isabela, who was grinning even wider.

“We have not…done that fully,” he said, unsure of how to explain in a place where they could be overheard. “But, you were correct about Anders’s—” He cleared his throat. “—healing hands.”

Isabela clapped her hands with delight, setting off a chain reaction of glitter and jingling through her bracelets and necklaces. “And how is it?”

“We have been doing things the other way, mostly. But, I like it. I want to keep…exploring?” It felt like a strange word to use in relation to his own body, but he could not think of a better one.

Her grin turned warm, less salacious, and she gave his arm a squeeze. “I am so glad. You both deserve everything you want. Cheers.”

They clanked their tankards together, and drank.

Over her tankard, Isabela winked. “And you’re both so dexterous, and _flexible_.”

Fenris coughed into his ale, thinking of Anders folding himself up for both of their pleasure the night before, then coming with his cock untouched, and felt his ears heat.

Isabela’s eyes sparkled. “You will _have_ to tell me what you’re thinking about, but here comes Varric.”

Fenris did his best to compose himself as Varric approached and sat down across from them.

“Rivaini, Elf,” Varric greeted them. “How are my favorite Northerners this afternoon?”

“Still sober, unfortunately, since someone was at the clinic instead of getting lunch drunk with me,” Isabela complained, shouldering Fenris gently.

“Huh,” Varric said, grinning. “I didn’t realize you were putting in so much time there now that Blondie finally has his little gaggle of assistants?”

Fenris tried to compose his expression. “Anders’s assistants are not capable of taking care of all of his needs, Varric.”

Isabela snorted with laughter, and Varric looked shocked, then delighted. “Do tell,” he said, pulling his ever-present notebook, pen, and reading glasses out of his pocket.

Fenris grinned. “I do not think it is anything that has literary merit.” Fenris suspected that his and Anders’s relationship was _already_ making its way into Varric’s upcoming romance serial installment, and did not feel the need to provide him with any accurate details.

“You can let me be the judge of that,” Varric said, miffed, adjusting his glasses. “My readership is very discerning.”

“Varric,” Isabela said, leaning wearily on one arm, “your readers couldn’t discern their way out of a grain sack. You know people only read _Swords and Shields_ for the smut. They skip the plot entirely.”

“That’s not true,” Varric replied, miffed. “My publisher gets letters from readers praising my geo-political exposés all the time.”

“I don’t think ‘Chantry bad, politics corrupt, slavery bad, mages complicated’ is quite the groundbreaking social commentary you think it is,” Isabela said. “People want to read about dangerous, sexy people _fucking_ , not people sitting around talking. Another round?”

Fenris nodded, and Isabela got up to return to the bar. After she’d left, Varric leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, elf. All joking aside, things are going well with Blondie?”

Fenris was slightly surprised at Varric’s candor, but not displeased by it; rather, the contrary. “Yes, things are going very well.”

Varric nodded and sat back. “Good. Unlike our dear Rivaini here, I truly have no intention of prying for any details.” He paused. “That is, unless you want to provide them. For research into mage elf relations.”

Isabela returned with three tankards and slid back onto the bench beside Fenris.

“No, Varric,” Fenris said, picking up his drink. “I do not think I will.”

Varric sighed. “Fair enough. More opportunity for creative expression, I suppose.”

“A toast to creative expression,” Isabela said, lifting her tankard, “and to Sparklefingers.”

Fenris grinned, and drank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for taking this journey with me through my first multi-part fic! I'm generally pretty stressed about setting myself deadlines for creative projects, so I had a lot of this drafted out before I even started posting, but it was good practice for me, and I hope enjoyable for you!


End file.
